


Be Okay

by tiptoeingwayfinder



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoeingwayfinder/pseuds/tiptoeingwayfinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's experience after Wells dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Okay

"I'm sorry," Charlotte whispered as she pressed the knife deeper into Wells's neck, "but I have to slay my demons." Wells fell onto his back, gasping as he clutched at the wound draining his life force. He looked up and Charlotte had vanished into the forest. He tried to call out, to yell for Clarke, but to no avail. The world he had so recently discovered was fading ever faster. As he gave up the fight and fixed his eyes on the sky, his last thought was clear: at least Clarke knew the truth.  
Dawn was breaking when Clarke awoke, panting. She looked around, panicky until she accounted for everyone. Ever since she found out they were not alone here, she had been obsessive in making certain everyone stayed alive through the night. She searched the camp for Monty, Jasper, Finn, Octavia, Charlotte, and Bellamy. Once she saw all of them breathing, she went to relieve the watchman, wells.  
She saw Wells lying on the ground and her heart dropped. She sprinted to his side and collapsed to her knees, scanning his body, his shoulders and head were covered in blood--Clarke refused to believe it was his until she checked his pulse and felt nothing. She heard nothing. No one was there to save him. No one who wanted to, except her. Her tears fell on his face as she apologized over and over again.  
She felt a hand on her shoulder before she realized she was not alone. "Clarke," Bellamy gasped with wide eyes fixed on Wells, "What happened?" She breathed for what felt like the first time in hours. "I don't know. I-," her four broke just before she did. "I wasn't there," she gasped between sobs. "I wasn't there. I couldn't save him. I should have saved him." Bellamy knelt beside her and she leaned against him, knowing he hated wells and probably hated her too but crying too much to care. Bellamy hesitated at the touch but, after a moment, gathered up a broken Clarke and pulled her up to a near-by tree trunk and held her still, despite her attempt to crawl back to Wells like she was still fighting for his life.  
The sun was well past the horizon by the time Clarke's sobs subsided into whimpers. She composed herself enough to look up, and saw Bellamy still fixated on Wells's lifeless corpse. Without looking away, he broke the silence. "Why him? I thought you hated him, I mean. Why is he so important?" Clarke exhaled a shuddering breath and shook her head. "You don't have to tell me," he amended, "I get the whole not talking thing." She started at that, because he couldn't know; buy them she remembered his mother--executed the same way her dad was. Her mother worked with Bellamy for months after, but he was ever silent. The only people he communicated with were children. She knew he understood.  
"He was my truest friend," she whispered. "He tried to hold my life together when it was crumbling. He let me blame him and hate him for years instead of telling me a truth that would have saved him and destroyed me." Bellamy said nothing, but nodded and squeezed her arm. "He loved you." He said softly. She began to protest, but as she looked at the lifeless body before her, she knew no argument could be made. She knew Wells loved her.  
"You think it's your fault." It wasn't a question. Clarke didn't respond but her face gave her away. "It isn't. I know you think you can save everyone, Clarke, but you can't." She glared at him, "Isn't that exactly why you're here? Because you want to save everyone?" His face dropped and he looked away. "Not everyone. My siste-."  
"Your sister isn't the only one, Bellamy," Clarke interrupted, "I see you with them. You've always needed to protect the kids." She saw the ghost of a smile play across his face as he submitted, "Well, yeah. I mean, they didn't ask to be at the bottom of the barrel, did they? They're just kids. Kids that didn't deserve the shit they were given." Clarke thought about the life they didn't choose: no surplus, no privacy, no second chances. What if they were the first ones with a shot at a second chance?  
"Nobody saved us, so we try to give them what we never had." Bellamy nodded and started to stand. Clarke stood, too, suddenly embarrassed by how long she'd laid there. He glanced down at wells and said, "Bury him. You'll feel better." Clarke agreed and Bellamy turned toward camp. "Wait," she stopped him, "thank you." He turned around and closed the distance between them, encircling her in his warm, comforting arms. With eyes closed, he pressed his lips against her forehead and whispered, "You are going to be okay." She nodded and turned back toward Wells, listening to Bellamy's footsteps fade away.  
"I am going to be okay."


End file.
